


At Least One Of Us

by Squid789



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Enjolras/Grantaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 16:35:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21182567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squid789/pseuds/Squid789
Summary: Three scenes before and during the June Rebellion.





	At Least One Of Us

Blood, blood, blood. Blood was all he could see. The crowd in the bar shouted as he threw another punch, a smile all over his face. That cunt Pellentier only managed to land one hit, and Grantaire did all he could to convince himself it wasn’t anything. He swore to himself up and down that the punch didn’t break his nose.  


The cacophony rung in his ears. Sweat burned his eyes. And all he could see was blood.  


There was lull and that cunt Pelletrier had to take a breather. Grantaire was tempted to throw another good one at that smug bastard’s face, but even he had a shred of decency. His poor mother would have been so disappointed if he let himself go.  


Pellentier yelled something, but Grantaire couldn’t hear it. He didn’t care, not now at least. He cocked his fist and went for it. In a moment, he felt his hand pound in that cunt’s doughy face. His knuckles bled and Pellentier’s tooth fell out. Grantaire could only laugh.  


The yelling of the crowd grew louder. Graintaire climbed on top of his opponent as Pellenteir went down. The man’s head cracked loudly against a chair. Grantaire just kept landing hits on the man’s face, giddiness making his mind wild.  


Then he felt it.  


A firm hand took a hold of his shoulder, forcing him up from the floor. “Grantaire! What in heaven’s name are you doing?”  


He swatted the hand off, taking a deep breath in. Spinning on his heel to see who had him, Grantaire came face to face with Enjorlas’ concerned face. His chest tightened as he stared into those amber eyes.  


“Grantaire?” Enjorlas asked again. Grantaire opened his mouth like fish. The words weren’t there and he couldn’t find the point of searching any longer. Enjorlas only shook his head with exasperation. “Come on. We need to go.”  


The blonde man took a hold of his friend’s hand and led him to the alley way. Grantaire almost couldn’t see through the gloom. The sun was already gone and any light from the bar was obscured by thick curtains. Enjorlas sat his friend down on some crates, sighing all the while. He looked up suddenly and Graintaire’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest. “What in the world were you doing in there? You could have killed Pellentier!”  


Graintarie laughed nervously and flashed a toothy grin, “He bet me five francs I couldn’t kick his ass.”  


Enjorlas only shook his head. Graintaire sunk on his crate. He couldn’t tell him what that cunt had said. He couldn’t bear to repeat those words. He just couldn’t.  


“You have too much fun, Grantaire. You have to cut back. I beg you,” Enjorlas chided.  


The brunette chewed on his lip momentarily, glancing to the side. He was playing a dangerous game and he knew it. “Why should I?”  


Expression falling, Enjolras took his friend’s hand in his own. He wiped some of the blood of Grantaire’s face before speaking in a quiet tone, “You know why. I need you.”  


Grantaire looked up again. Enjorlas’ words repeated themselves in his head, over and over again. He tired so hard not to smile.  


“We all need you. We all depend on you. Without you, our cause loses so much.” Enjorlas added.  


Graintaire felt himself fall. All warmth left him in an instant. He mustered a small grin as he tried to look at his friend. “I’ll try. I really will.”  


A sunny grin spread over Enjorlas’ face. “We count on you, Grantaire. We all do.” He paused getting up from his own crate, stretching his arms far above his head. “Don’t forget we’re meeting at headquarters tomorrow evening. I’ll see you there.”  


Grantaire mumbled a goodbye as he watched Enjorlas walk to the main road. The cold only spread and he just felt empty. Grantaire took a deep breath in, holding his head in his hands. Good lord he loved him and by the lord he was too much a coward to say a word.

…

It wasn’t often that Grantaire’s mind wasn’t frazzled or tumultuous. All day, every day, Grantaire’s mind was following twelve different trains of thought. The constant buzz was never ending. Even he was mystified as to how he got anything done.  


But when Marius ran off with Eponine to see that one girl he had fallen head over heels with, the ABC Café just sort of … emptied. He and Enjorlas had cracked some jokes about their friend unfortunate condition. Maybe that was really why he left. But who was he to judge?  


Now he was just sitting at one the empty tables, surrounded by empty chairs. It wasn’t the worst thing of the world. But was it really?  


A small glass clanked next to his arm. Instinctively, Grantaire jolted, knocking the glass and wine to the floor.  


“Boo!” Enjorlas called out as he took a seat across the table. There was an entertained frown on his face, making Grantaire’s heart flutter just a bit. “What a waste. But then again, I guess you don’t really like using glasses. Like a drunkard.”  


“Oh, shove it,” Grantaire chided as he took the bottle from Enjorlas. His friend chuckled as he watched him take a gulp.  


“One last night of wine before we put up the barricades then?”  


“Well, you’ve got calm your nerves some way or another,” Grantaire shrugged. Enjorlas only nodded in response.  


The two of them drank in companionable silence for a minute or two before Enjorlas addressed him again. “Are you nervous for tomorrow though?”  


“Who wouldn’t be?” Grantaire paused, taking another sip of wine. “Any normal person would be scared, you know? All those soldiers pointing guns at you. And we know they work.”  


“The guns? Of course, they do. But there’s more to be scared of then guns.”  


Grantaire took a deep breath in. “What are you scared of then?”  


“That we’ll fail. That even if we die, no one will care or nothing will change.”  


“You’re not scared to die then?”  


Enjorlas gulped. Grantaire could see him grimace and tap the table top nervously. “Of course, I am. Aren’t you?”  


“Yeah, I guess. But honestly, I’m more scared of dying alone. I don’t want to be bleeding out on the cobblestones knowing that no one cared for me.”  


Grantaire chewed on his lip anxiously before finishing the bottle of wine. He closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind. He’d been too honest.  


Enjorlas put his hand on top Grantaire’s with a faltering smile. “You shouldn’t have to worry about that. I’ll be there for you, always. I care.”  


Grantaire stared out the window, trying not to frown. He would have had an excuse to be gloomy. But why should he push it? Grantaire mustered a smile and turned back to Enjorlas across the table. “Promise?”  


“Promise.”

…  


“You’re not a fucking coward, Grantaire. You never were! How can you not see that?” Enjorlas yelled. He took Grantaire by the shoulders, shaking him.  


Grantaire looked away, finger nails digging into his palms. He took in a shaky breath. Deep down he wanted to run away.  


Enjorlas gestured widely around them, “Anyone would be scared here! Look at where we are! Look at what we’re doing!”  


Grantaire’s nails dug further into his skin, and he was sure he broke the skin. Everything hurt, but it was nothing compared to the tightness in his chest.  


“Grantaire! You’re not a coward and you never were! Compared to those soldiers out there, you’re a saint.”  


Grantaire turned to Enjorlas again, tears in his eyes. “This isn’t what that’s about, Jorla! Not even a bit.” He paused, tears streaming down his face, “I’m in love with you! I’m terrified of that. I’m terrified of these feelings. The barricade is nothing in comparison.”  


Grantaire’s heart fell when he saw Enjorlas look away. His friend’s face was blank and his grip on Grantaire’s shoulders lessened. The brunette almost stopped breathing when Enjorlas turned away.  


“I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have told you. I mean, again look at what we’re doing.”  


“Shut up.”  


“What?”  


Enjorlas grabbed Grantaire’ cheeks and pulled him up. He didn’t hesitate to kiss him, keeping Grantaire close. Hesitantly, Enjorlas broke the kiss. Grantaire kept his eyes closed, scared that it was just some dream.  


“I love you too, you fool. How could I not? I’d love you until the day I die and ever after.”  


Enjorlas pulled Grantaire close into an embrace and kept him there. Grantaire could feel himself smile despite the chaos in his head. Enjorlas didn’t seem to mind that his tears were seeping through his waistcoat.  


“I’m so glad you love me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I literally just watched this a few hours ago and friend pulled me down with this ship. It should also be noted I know next to nothing about French history so oh well!
> 
> Thanks for Reading!!!!!!!!!!!


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